


On A Tuesday

by mickeym



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, First Time, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-07
Updated: 2007-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:32:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickeym/pseuds/mickeym
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary's waiting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On A Tuesday

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this long before we had any details on Mary (Campbell) Winchester, so it's been Jossed to hell and back.

Mary's seventeen, and she's waiting.

Waiting to finish school, waiting to turn eighteen, waiting to meet someone who will want her.

Waiting to get out of here, away from this town and her family.

Today she's also waiting tables at Reggie's Diner, looking out the windows at the blue-gray sky, in between customers, and sweeping-wiping-mopping-bussing. She's had this job for six months, and she's hated it for five months and twenty-seven days, but tips are good. Off-duty Marines from Camp LeJeune like it because Reggie makes good, strong coffee and has the best cherry pie in three counties, and they'll come in after work and sit sometimes for hours, drinking coffee, talking and telling jokes. When Mary smiles at them and laughs at their jokes, the tips are even better than usual.

There's one guy who stands out. He's big -- tall and broad -- with a beautiful mouth that curves easily into a smile. His voice is both big and small; booming when he tells jokes and laughs, quiet when he speaks to her. When Mary looks in his eyes, she sees the same secrets there that she sees when she looks in the mirror.

In between cherry pie and two pots of coffee, and a lot of teasing from his buddies, John Winchester asks her out.

She doesn't wait at all before saying yes.

~~~~~

There isn't much to do in Holly Ridge; the town is small and mainly military, which means bars, tattoo parlors and a few strip joints. Reggie's is the only diner and Mary doesn't want to eat there, so they end up at Dairy Queen.

"I'm a mechanic," John tells her over hamburgers and chocolate shakes. "When I finish up this tour, I'm gonna reenlist, get another four years in, then get out and get my own shop."

He's three years older than Mary, and he's been in the Marines since the day after he graduated high school. He's been to California and Okinawa, and now he's here, though he says he doesn't know for how much longer. "They like to move us around a lot," he says, then adds, "but it's cool, because I get to see more places that way."

"It sounds really nice," Mary says, reaching out and grabbing one of John's French fries.

He narrows his eyes at her, then whaps her knuckles with another French fry. "You know, stealing a man's fries could be a punishable offense."

Mary laughs. "Yeah, it's right up there with murder, isn't it?"

"It really should be." John nods solemnly, but his eyes twinkle, and Mary likes that she can see the smile even when he's not _smiling_. "What about you?" He asks, then, reaching out to rub his fingers over hers. "Are you from around here?"

Mary smiles at the light touch, and likes the way his fingers look against her. "I am, but not for much longer," she says, thinking how no one will miss her when she's gone and she won't miss them, either. "What was Okinawa like?"

John talks about how different the Japanese culture is; even base culture.

"I liked it a lot, but it was weird, too--the people are smaller, you know? I walked around pretty much feeling like this huge, clumsy thing."

"I don't think you could be clumsy if you tried," Mary says, then flushes.

John's whole face lights up in a smile. "You didn't see me clomping around there, though," he answers. "Or trying to squeeze myself into those tiny little boxes they use for cars."

On impulse Mary stretches her hand out and takes John's, and yeah. She likes touching him. "Tell me about Japan," she says softly.

"It's really pretty," he begins. "Lots of gardens and shrines. When the sun sets and the sky is all pink, fading into the water, it makes everything kind of glow," he tells Mary, and she wishes she could see the sun setting like that. She's seen it rise over the water, but she thinks sunsets are always prettier.

They had planned on going to see _The Godfather, Part II_, but it's already started at the little theater in town, and the drive-in doesn't appeal to either of them. They end up driving down to the beach, and walking along water, talking about future dreams and plans. Mary steps closer to John when a breeze kicks up, coming in cool off the water, even this far into spring. He takes her hand, and they fit together so well, like puzzle pieces. Mary leans in closer.

"I want to go somewhere where no one knows me. Maybe go to college, maybe not. I want to be a mother. I want a whole houseful of kids," she says, glancing sideways to see John's reaction.

He squeezes her hand.

"Me, too. I'm an only child, and it's--"

"Lonely," Mary finishes for him, voice soft with memories of nights alone in the house, daddy gone and momma out somewhere drinking, and no one else.

"Yeah." John squeezes her hand again, then stops mid-step, right there on the beach, pulling her in toward him slowly.

It's a gentle kiss, at first; in it Mary feels comfort. Like she'll never be lonely again. Then it's warm, pressure growing until she opens her mouth under his. His tongue strokes over hers, startling her, and she jumps a little, banging their mouths together. John bites her lip, then licks over it, muttering something that sounds like an apology. Mary shakes her head and moves closer, sliding her arms up and around his neck. This time, she gets it right; they get it right. Hot and wonderful, and Mary feels each slip and slide and stroke deep down inside her, warmth growing and washing outward until she wonders how she's going to be able to hold it all in and hopes she can't.

John drives her home and asks if he can see her again. Mary tells him yes, already shivery and warm, anticipating it. He waits until she's inside her house, waving at him from behind the screen door, before driving away.

His truck is loud in the quiet night, and Mary leans in the doorway listening to the fading growl, her mouth and body still thrumming from his kisses.

~~~~~

John waits for Mary every evening, driving her home after her shift at the diner is over. Sometimes he stays at her house -- if Momma is out for the evening. Those night he'll sit with Mary while she finishes up her homework or studies for upcoming tests. Sometimes they go out, usually for a walk, but sometimes for a drive up or down the coast.

Once, John takes her on base. They drive past his barracks and the mess hall and he points out the low building he works in.

They go to the NCO club, and Mary isn't sure what John says to the guy at the door, but he lets her in, too, even though she isn't eighteen yet. They drink beer and play pool, hanging out with some of John's friends, and one newly married couple. His name is Paul, and her name is Susan. She's one year older than Mary, and when she thinks no one's looking, her hand cups over her belly protectively. She tells Mary later, when they excuse themselves to the restroom, that she's pregnant.

Mary wishes she were Susan.

~~~~~

John's gone for three weeks on what he calls field drills and exercises, and it's the most miserable three weeks of Mary's life.

It's not dark yet, as Mary walks home from the diner, but she wishes it were; it would be one more day over and maybe tomorrow John would be back.

He's waiting for her on the front porch when she walks up. He's still dressed in his field gear, his face smudged black and brown and green. He looks absolutely ridiculous and wonderful, and Mary launches herself at him, eager and desperate to feel his arms around her.

"Mary-mine," is all he says at first, in that low, gravelly voice that she hears and feels all over, all at once. He's warm, and solid, and she's never felt so safe as she does in his arms.

"Missed you," she tells him, holding on tight. "Feels like you've been gone forever."

"Felt like it, yeah." He growls the words into Mary's skin, then kisses her until her head spins.

"You hurt your lip," she says, when they break apart to breathe. Mary draws back just enough to see the split in John's lip, and reaches up to rub her thumb gently across it. "What happened?"

John kisses her thumb. "I didn't duck fast enough."

"Be serious."

"I was. We do hand-to-hand, among other things, and I didn't duck a punch fast enough." John pulls her closer and it's no chore to snuggle against him again. "I probably got a bruise under all the dirt and paint."

"Poor baby," she clucks, rubbing his lip again.

"You should kiss it and make it better," John tells her.

"I should," she agrees, and then does.

~~~~~

They make love for the first time, that evening. Mary's room is warm and dim, rosy shadows peeking around her curtains where the sun is setting.

John's eyes on her as he undoes her buttons make her feel beautiful. His fingers teasing over her breasts, rubbing through the lace and cotton of her bra, make her nipples tingle and then tighten; hardsoft points he teases and caresses with fingers and tongue before suckling.

Each pull of his mouth sends a line of fire from her breasts downward, and Mary spreads her legs wantonly, wanting something she can't express and doesn't quite understand. She's felt shades of it before, when John touched her through her clothes while they kissed, but this�this is raw and powerful and frightening and exhilarating, and Mary's hot and wet and shaking when John slides two fingers down her belly, and then further.

"John, oh, God--" She cries out with her orgasm, John's fingers rubbing her clit into a hard, throbbing little nub until her blood pounds through her body. One finger presses inside her and Mary bucks upward, arching toward it, sensation exploding through her again. A second finger, and John leans in to kiss her, whispering into her mouth, "You feel so good, Mary. So fucking *good*."

She does feel good, though she knows that's not how he means it. But she's caught between adrenaline rushes, her body slick and throbbing and relaxed and _ready_. Ready for so much more.

It hurts, but it doesn't, when John pushes into her, groaning her name. He's thick and hard, and she's splitting apart from it, from his cock inside her. Mary clutches his arms, his shoulders, whining low in the back of her throat through the first couple of thrusts. The pain recedes into liquid warmth spreading outward and spiraling through her until all Mary feels is John in her, on her, over her. He's slow at first, gentle strokes that ease her into it.

The faster, harder strokes feel like he's pushing all the way up inside her. Mary bites at John's mouth when he kisses her, licks at the split in his lip and tastes blood. It's dark and metallic and makes Mary shudder even while she licks again.

She comes again while he's pounding into her, and it's not just once, it's over and over, her body convulsing beyond her control of it, until she's wrung out, panting from the over-stimulation. When John comes it's a new flood of heat deep inside her, and he grunts with each thrust, each pulse of his cock.

"That was--" Mary begins, voice hoarse from panting and groaning. She clears her throat and swallows, her mouth almost painfully dry.

"Good, I hope," John says, pulling her close even as he shifts, body separating from her. It hurts, a sharp, slick pain that pulls, and then John's on his side, pulling her into a hug. Mary nods.

"It was. I've never--I didn't�know. I mean." She breathes in the musky scent surrounding her: sex and her and John. She feels slick and sticky between her thighs, and her whole lower body aches in a way she's never felt before�but she feels better than she's ever felt, too. "It was really good," she whispers, curling into John.

His fingers tugging through her hair -- curls hopelessly tangled by thrashing and sweating -- is the last thing she remembers before sunrise wakes her again.

~~~~~

Mary turns eighteen at the beginning of June, the day before graduation.

John's sitting in the bleachers for her graduation ceremony. If her Momma's there, Mary doesn't know; she hasn't seen Momma since the Friday before, when she left with a male friend to go 'out on the town'.

Mary feels John's eyes on her when she crosses the stage and receives her diploma. Her eyes aren't on the crisp roll of paper she's just received, though. They're on the glitter and shine of the tiny diamond on her left hand, and the way the light reflects into prisms.

"Happy birthday," was what John had said first, and then, "Will you marry me?" He'd stopped then, tilting his head in a gesture Mary now knew meant he was nervous. "I got new orders--I'm supposed to ship out in a couple weeks. I want you to go with me."

"Yes," she'd said, no hesitation or waiting or anything.

Now she turns away from the teachers handing out the diplomas and moves back toward her seat, catching John's eye as she goes. His smile rivals the glittering diamond on her finger for shine.

~~~~~

It's a very simple ceremony, standing before the Justice of Peace at the courthouse. Susan -- now heavily pregnant -- and Paul stand up with them, and afterward they hug Mary and Paul shakes John's hand. John tells Mary just after the ceremony that he's been promoted to Staff Sergeant, which means a better chance for base quarters at 29 Palms.

Base quarters at 29 Palms. It's a whole world away from Holly Ridge. A whole new world.

It's a Tuesday in June, and Mary's done waiting. She's turned eighteen, and she's graduated from high school.

She's met the person she's been waiting for, the person who wants her, and now she's married to him. Her best friend, her husband, her lover. She thinks she might burst, she's so happy.

She kisses John and leans into him, thinking about the life ahead of her, ahead of them, and she can't wait.

She doesn't have to, because it's here.

~fin~

 


End file.
